


Dumbledore's Army

by AceSpace



Series: Cassius Warrington - Hogwarts Champion [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Gen, Harry Potter AU, Harry Potter Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Passive suicidal tendencies, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sequel, Suicidal Thoughts, The Champion, Viola is savage, she's kind of a bitch but shes hurting and I love her so please be patient with her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-14 20:25:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10543826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceSpace/pseuds/AceSpace
Summary: Viola Richmond returns to Hogwarts after Cassius Warrington's death. Dumbledore says Warrington was murdered by Voldemort returned. Everyone else says that it was a tragic accident, taken by the tournament, the Potter is cracked. Viola wants answers. But more than that, she wants justice. It's time to find out what really happened - from the only person who witnessed it.





	1. Introduction and The New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viola Richmond attend Cassius Warrington's Funeral over the summer months. There are a lot of people telling her what to feel, what to do, and most importantly, what to believe. She's never been one to let others think for her, and she isn't about to start now. She resolves to confront Harry When she returns to school in the fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm reorganizing this fic a little. I HAVE NOT MADE ANY CHANGES TO ANY CHAPTERS. I am simply putting the Introduction and Chapter One into the Chapter One slot on here so that I can stop confusing myself with the chapter numbers being different on here vs my computer. I apologize for any inconvenience.

** Introduction **

In the mirror her eyes were dead, puffy and swollen from crying, dark from the lack of sleep despite spending most of her time in bed. Her little brothers and sister had tried to lure her out of bed the first few days. Eventually her parents had made them leave her be. They knew Cassius was gone, but the twins, Imogen and Robin, were 10, Orlando only 7. Viola wasn’t sure how much they really understood of death. Maybe today would drive it home. She reached down and plucked a stray hair from the black velvet of her dress. It was simple, elegant and conservative. The ring Cassius gave her hung from a thin silver chain around her neck, dangling down her breast. She had tried to return it to the Warringtons, but they insisted she keep it, after all, there was no one left to inherit it now.   
The time came to leave. Her family was staying in London for the funeral, so a car had come to pick them up. Her father and mother rode in one car with Orlando. She rode in another with Imogen and Robin cradled closely, one on each side. The somber mood had affected them as well, as if they knew that this was their last chance to say goodbye forever.   
The graveyard was large and felt empty. It had been cleared and warded against muggles, but it was filling now with witches and wizards. Cassius’ family was receiving guests. She had been asked to join them but declined. It was too painful, it was all too painful. Over there were his distant cousins, great uncles and aunts he’d probably only heard of a handful of times. She recognized a people from Hogwarts, Professor Quigg being one of them. And here now were Caliban and Roger, his two best friends. Caliban saw her and nudged Roger, the two making their way to her. When they were close Viola could see a third person, who pushed passed them and wrapped her in their arms.  
It was Alethea, her own best friend. Seeing them brought everything right back to the service and she began crying again. Caliban wrapped his arms around them both, holding tightly as Roger placed a hand on her shoulder. Viola doesn’t know how long they stayed like that, only that eventually someone came and ushered them to some seats close to the front. Music played, Cassius’ body was floated in and settled above his grave, words were spoken in remembrance, but Viola heard nothing at all. His body was lowered and the tomb encased him. 

That was months ago. Viola was getting better. She hurt until she was numb and felt nothing. She barely spoke to anyone. Instead, she thought. Sometimes she thought about the future, how different it would be, how to move on, but mostly she thought about Cassius. She had spent every day with him for six years. First as classmates, then as partners. She didn’t want to think about finishing Hogwarts now that he was...gone. And she didn’t even know how he had died. Dumbledore said he was murdered by He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, but he was just taking Harry Potter’s word for it. And Viola didn’t know if she trusted him. Cass had… but Cass was dead now. The minister on the other hand were saying it was a tragic accident. That death is a risk of the Triwizard tournament.   
Viola wanted to hear it for herself, right from Potter’s own mouth. She wanted to hear him say it, every detail. And if he was lying, if it was his fault that Cass was dead… she’d destroy him.

** Chapter One: The New Year **

Everything was the same. She knew that. The train was exactly the same. The smells, the sounds, the students milling about, the muggle borns and their parents looking lost and absolutely dazed.   
_The incoming class is small again, a side effect Professor Binns said is from the Wizarding War and He-Who-Shall-Not destroying records. If he really was back, maybe it would happen again._ Viola shuddered. _Undiscovered magic could be absolutely catastrophic._  
Even though everything looked the same, it all felt different. All the jitters and excitement of another school year, of seeing everyone again, was missing, replaced with a dread of having to be on the same train, the same common room, the same everything filled with their memories. But she tried not to dwell on that. She pushed it all down and got on the train, finding a compartment to sit in with Caliban, Roger, and Alethea. All of them were hurting, so it was best to comfort each other, to stick together. 

_Well, at least one thing was different._ This year Professor Grubbly-plank was greeting the students getting off the train. Viola liked Hagrid plenty, but changes, even the little ones, made the pain a little bit less. She turned, scanning the crowd. Harry Potter wasn’t too far ahead of her and her friends, but this wasn’t the right place. Still, she couldn’t help but notice he was acting well… odd. He was looking at the space between the carriages, and then looking all around, and then looking closer still. It was as though he was seeing something for the first- and then it hit her, something they’d been taught a few years ago. Thestrals. Thestrals pulled the carriages and only those who had seen death could see them.  
 _At least I know for sure he saw Cassius… he saw Cassius die. And That means he can give me answers._ Viola moved closer, trying to hear if he said anything to his friends.   
“Vi, come on. We need to get a carriage before they all fill up. I don’t want to wait for the second round.” Alethea called out, reaching for her hand. Viola felt the edges of her mouth tug up. She took her friend’s hand and followed her, pushing through the crowd. Caliban stood in one of the carriages and waved for them to come over. She could just make out Roger shooing people away to make sure there was room. Finally there was a break in the crowd, letting Viola and Alethea into the carriage with their friends. Two more people got on after that, but Viola sat on the other side, a corner blocked off from the others so she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. 

Once they got to the Great Hall, it seemed there were still more changes. Up on the dias was a new teacher. Of course they would have to a new defense against the dark arts teacher after it was found out that Professor Moody wasn’t Professor Moody at all. But this squat toad-like woman looked weirdly familiar. However, he pink she was decked out made Viola want to hurl, so she did not linger.  
Soon the sorting hat began its song, this year with as much weight and dread as Viola herself felt. This years song held them each captive. But the end would stick with Viola.

_And never since the founders four  
were whittled down to three  
have the Houses been united  
as they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here  
and you all know the score:  
I sort you into Houses  
because that is what I'm for._

_But this year I'll go further,  
listen closely to my song:  
though condemned I am to split you  
still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though I must fulfil my duty  
and must quarter every year  
still I wonder whether sorting  
may not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,  
the warning history shows,  
for our Hogwarts is in danger  
from external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her  
or we'll crumble from within  
I have told you, I have warned you...  
let the Sorting now begin. _


	2. Chapter Two: The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viola returns to Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm reorganizing this fic a little. I HAVE NOT MADE ANY CHANGES TO ANY CHAPTERS. I am simply putting the Introduction and Chapter One into the Chapter One slot on here so that I can stop confusing myself with the chapter numbers being different on here vs my computer. I apologize for any inconvenience.

** Chapter Two: The Confrontation **

Viola rolled her eyes as ‘Professor’ Umbridge finished her speech. The feast was nearly over - and if she wasn’t mistaken, those were prefect badges on the ginger and the muggle born’s chests. Harry would be alone.  
Everyone was standing now, first years clumping together after the prefects. Viola forced a smile at the first years and slipped away while her friends were turned. Potter was moving quickly, head down, barely glancing up as he tried to avoid the stares and chatter. He was way ahead of her. She slipped to the side, up one of the shortcuts. Free from the slower moving crowds, Viola was able to slip into a dark corner that the Gryffindors had to pass by on the way to their common room.  
“Ack!” Harry gasped and struggled for his wand as Viola yanked him into the shadows. He stopped struggling as the tip of her wand dug into his throat.  
“Keep. Quiet.” Viola leaned back to check the hallway, “I’m going to move my wand. You’re going to go over into that empty storage room. I’ll follow after a minute or two. Try to run, and you will regret it. Do you understand me?” Harry nodded and Viola released him.

The storage room was dusty and cobwebbed in the corners. Potter looked more than cranky as he paced the floor, but the look he shot Viola when she walked in was pure guilt. Still, that could mean anything.  
“I think it’s time we talked, Potter.”  
“Why? Do you think I’m a nutter, too?”  
“No. You definitely saw Cas die, but was it You-Know-Who? Or did you make it up because you felt guilty about living? Did you screw something up and he died trying to save you? Or are you a craftier little prat than you look like, and you killed Cas and-”  
“I didn’t kill Warrington!” Viola was cut short by Harry’s rage. She looked him over coldly, head to toe, taking in the tight lines in his body, the harsh tension like a string about to snap, “Believe me about Voldemort-” Viola caught herself flinching at the name, “Or don’t but don’t you… don’t you dare say that I killed Cassius because I-I didn’t…” It wasn’t until his voice cracked the Viola noticed the tears burning trails down his cheeks.  
“Sit down, Harry.” 

\------------------------------------------------- The Graveyard ------------------------------------------------

The two slammed hard against the ground, their legs giving out underneath them. The Triwizard cup tumbled away from them both. Cassius was the first to his feet. He looked around, taking in the surroundings before pulling Harry to his feet. The mountains around Hogwarts were long gone. Even in the distance, they were nowhere to be seen.  
“Where are we?” Harry asked.  
Cassius shook his head, “No where near Hogwarts. Something’s not right.” Looking around, it was clear that they were in a graveyard, dark and overgrown with weeds. Just passed some trees, Cassius could make out what appeared to be a church. On the other side of them appeared to be a fine house.  
“What do you mean? It’s part of the tournament, isn’t it?”  
Cassius looked at the cup, then back at Harry, “Did anyone tell you the cup was a portkey?”  
“No.”  
“Well, wand out then.” Harry nodded and both of them armed themselves. They looked around, keeping close to each other, for any sign of what to do or where they were.  
Then Harry pointed his wand to the darkness, “Someone is coming.”  
Cassius looked where he pointed. Sure enough, there was a figure approaching them through the graves. They were holding something in their arms. A bundle of some sort? A baby, perhaps? Harry lowered his wand slightly. Cassius gripped his wand tighter. The figure stopped at a large marble headstone, six feet from where they were standing. One moment they were simply staring at each other, the next moment Harry was screaming in agony, his wand lying forgotten in the grass.  
“Kill the spare.” Cassius raised his wand to defend himself, but he was a second too slow. A burst of green light and Cassius was gone. Harry didn’t have time to process the cold and empty look in Cassius’ eyes. Someone was yanking Harry to his feet and slamming him against a gravestone with a name he’d barely managed to read - TOM RIDDLE. Harry struggled against the bindings only to be struck. It was then that Harry realized the man in the cloak was Wormtail. Once the bonds were secure, Wormtail shoved a rough cloth into Harry’s mouth and left him there, nothing to do but look out into the graveyard, shivering and scared and unable to look away from Cassius for more than a moment. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry recounted that night to Viola, every gruesome detail. He had tried to spar her at first, but a sharp word and stern look told him that wasn’t what she wanted, perhaps, what she needed.  
_Bone of the father, unknowingly given…_

_She didn’t let him stop where Cassius had died. But made him continue on. He told her about his scare, how his parents had died and the pain he felt whenever Voldemort drew near. He told her about Third Year, Remus, and Sirius, and Peter Pettigrew.  
_Flesh of the servant, willingly given…__

_He told her about the spell, there in the graveyard, standing on the bones of Voldemort’s father, staring at Cassius’ body. Hoping it was all just a terrible terrible dream and he would wake up and it would be the morning of the third task again. Harry told her about the dagger digging into his skin and how it was then he knew it was real.  
_Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken…__

_He told her how the cauldron turned a blinding white, sparks shooting out of it, until there was steam filling the air with a thick mist. How he could barely make out the tall, skeletal figure emerging from the cauldron. He described Voldemort in such detail, with such fear and disgust and pure loathing - from his bald head, to the bright red eyes, the snake light slits that stood in place of his nose.  
Lord Voldemort had risen again._

_She didn’t have to push him for information any more. It spilled from him like a geyser, unable to hold the bubbling back any longer. Voldemort had taken Wormtail’s remaining arm - examining it closely, pressing his finger to the brand on his arm - the dark mark. He had called his Death Eaters. And now he waited, tormenting Harry, going on about a family he never known, the muggle father he was name for._  
Then the Death Eaters arrived in a near deafening rusling and thud of too many cloaks and feet hitting the ground, the loud POP! Of apparition.  
He hesitated before he told her the names of those who answered Voldemort’s call. He could see her commit each name to memory.  
Avery  
Crabbe  
Goyle  
Nott  
Malfoy  
Macnair 


	3. Chapter Three: Delores Umbridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm reorganizing this fic a little. I HAVE NOT MADE ANY CHANGES TO ANY CHAPTERS. I am simply putting the Introduction and Chapter One into the Chapter One slot on here so that I can stop confusing myself with the chapter numbers being different on here vs my computer. I apologize for any inconvenience.

** Chapter Three: Dolores Umbridge **

Viola suffered through her morning classes. By lunch she just couldn’t stand any more, so she skipped her first afternoon class. Wandering the halls, she spotted none other than Harry Potter, looking angry and exasperated.  
“Oi, Potter!”  
“What?” He turned to snap at her before realizing who it was. His anger seemed to simmer down, not completely disappearing, “Oh… Viola. Why are you out of class?”  
“Skipping. Decided Flitwick looking at me with that dumb mix of pity and curiosity. Like the kid gloves is going to bring Cassius back. You?  
“Umbridge is sending me to McGonnagall because I said Warrington didn’t just drop dead out of the blue and that Lord Voldemort is back.” Viola starting laughing. She didn’t know why she found it so funny. Harry didn’t see it as funny either. His face grew more and more red, “It’s not funny! She’s not even letting us use magic!”  
“Of course it’s not funny. I’m sorry, hey…” She turned him back in the right direction, them walking slowly towards the office, “Thank you, for defending Cassius. But you need to play it smart. If she can rile you up, she can make you look crazy. It doesn’t matter if you’re right or wrong, it’s about appearances.”  
“I don’t care how I look, people need to know that Voldemort… He’s back and-”  
“But no one will really think he’s back if they think you’re crazy. I know it’s hard, but keep your head down, try to control your temper. If it gets to be too much, you know how to find me. We can talk it out. Or break things. Makes no difference to me,” They stopped outside McGonnagall’s door, “And as for the magic… she can’t stop you from practicing. In the dorms, empty classrooms, the common rooms, wherever you can fit a minute in.”  
She reached over and straighten his tie, her fingers flattening and fixing his collar, picking a stray cat hair from his robe, “Maybe I’ll go take a nap upstairs, take my own advice, keep my head down. Later, Potter.”

In the Great Hall that night there was a noticeable shift. People had laid off tiptoeing around Viola in favor of loud whispers meant to goad Potter into losing his temper. They had all been struck by a morbid curiosity, a hunger to hear the story firsthand, whether they believed it or not. The truth was so painfully terrifying that they, like their parents, like the ministry, would find it easier and more comforting to pretend it wasn’t true.  
A pair of brave, or perhaps stupid, third years sat a little too close to where Viola was eating with her friends. They didn’t even bother to whisper.  
“Think it’s true what they’re saying? Think Potter’s really cracked?”  
“He has to be… right? You-Know-Who returned? And _he_ dueled him? And won?”  
“So he killed Warrington then?”  
“Why not? People used to die all the time in the tournament. I’d bet Potter killed Warrington, realized what he’d done, and lost it.”  
“Right. Maybe he dueled Warrington and that’s where he got the-” They both looked up, horrified, when they heard Viola start to laugh, cold and low. All her friends held the same bittersweet look of remembering. The younger kids didn’t know. They’d never seen Cassius standing tall, how light he was on his fight, circling like a predator stalking his prey. How he never took his eyes off his target, or that cruel glint in his eyes when he found a weakness.  
“Cassis…” saying his name was a knife twisting in between her ribs, “was a vicious dueler. Potter wouldn’t have stood a chance.”  
Perhaps the dumbest of the group sneered, “So he couldn’t beat Warrington, but you think _Potter_ defeated You-Know-Who?”  
“He’s done it before. After all, he is the Boy Who Lived.”

 

After the display in the Great Hall, Viola thought that people would avoid her. However, that night she was approached by a fifth year.  
“Excuse me, are you Viola Richmond?” her voice was soft and timid, it seemed almost mismatched with the girls’ appearance. But Viola could see past the ramrod straight posture, the one that pureblood families practically trained their children in, to the distinct discomfort of a painfully shy child having to make the first move.  
“I am. And you are?”  
“Daphne. Daphne Greengrass.”


	4. Chapter Four: Daphne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viola begins tutoring Daphne.  
> THIS IS THE UPDATED CHAPTER FOUR! The previous chapter for is now chapter three. Everything got moved back because I put the introduction and the first chapter on one page so that my chapter numbers would actually match up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daphne isn't actually in this chapter a whole lot, my bad. I had meant to write a whole lot more of her and their studying but then I remembered that the DA doesn't start until a lot later. Plus... realistic education? Daphne is dyslexic. It's not a huge plot point, but it's there and I'll try to mention it fairly often.  
> Harry's parts are taken from the actual text, though rewritten through my perspective and take on it. It's mostly there to keep everyone up with the timing. 
> 
> Also, Cassius is mentioned. I apologize in advanced for the romantic types.

** Chapter Four: Daphne **

_”Oh no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr. Potter.”  
Harry could taste anger in the back of his throat. His head throbbed dangerously. But he could hear Viola whispering under the pounding in his ears, ‘No one will believe he’s back if they think you’re crazy. Keep your head down, control your temper.’ _

“Excuse me, are you Viola Richmond?” her voice was soft and timid, it seemed almost mismatched with the girls’ appearance. But Viola could see past the ramrod straight posture, the one that pureblood families practically trained their children in, to the distinct discomfort of a painfully shy child having to make the first move.  
“I am. And you are?”  
“Daphne. Daphne Greengrass.”  
Viola sat up straight in the armchair that she had been lazily draped over. Her chair was pressed into one of the more isolated niches, tucked away behind bookshelves and up against the giant glass windows looking into the Black Lake. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the faint shimmer of merfolk at a distance, “A pleasure, I’m sure. What do you want?”  
Daphne shifted uncomfortably. She took a deep breath, her fingers raking through her hair and tossing the dark brown strands over her shoulder, “I was asking around about a tutor, and someone mentioned you might be the best person to ask.” Her voice trailed off uncertainly at the end.  
“A tutor? It’s what, the second day?”  
“I just… I’d rather not fall behind. I know… I’m not great at learning from a book. I need the practice to feel…” Daphne was visibly shrinking, feeling so stupid for even asking. Of course a seventh year wouldn’t have time to tutor her.  
“Confidant?” Viola regretted, not for the first time this week, being so short and irritable, “I’m guessing it’s Defense Against the Dark Arts. I heard that Umbridge is going a more… theoretical route. And with the OWL year students… and I do have some extra time since I’m only taking the necessities…” Daphne started to look hopeful.  
Viola sighed and slouched back into the chair, “Okay. We’ll start next week. Just let me borrow your book this weekend to see what Umbridge wants from you, and I’ll see if I can scratch up my notes on what was actually on the OWLs.”  
“Thank you! Thank you so much, you won’t regret this, I promise.”

_Harry flinched when Ron grabbed his arm. He could feel tears burning his eyes as his best friend examined the deeply etched, ‘I must not tell lies.’ Panic bubbled dangerously close to going over. He couldn’t go to McGonagall. She has no power over Umbridge. He couldn’t go to Dumbledore. Dumbledore hadn’t spoken a word to him since last June. And if Dumbledore had any power in this situation, clearly he wasn’t using it. Harry felt darkness creeping up on him, blurring the edges of his vision. He was alone._

A great horned owl swooped down, landing with a THUNK in front of Viola. She gently kissed the top of the owls head as she untied the carefully wrapped package. She had asked her parents to send her the OWL notes she had stashed away in her room. She had the rest of today to go over her own notes, the weekend to skim through the DADA basic textbook, and start in with Daphne on Monday. They had agreed to study once a week, the night before Daphne actually had Umbridge’s class.  
Alethea watched Viola slip the notebooks into her bag, “What are those for?”  
Viola shrugged and slipped a treat to the owl before it took off, “Just some of the notes I took for our OWLs. I agreed to tutor the Greengrass kid, Daphne.”  
“You sure that’s a good idea?” Caliban asked from across the table. Her friends had backed off a little, trying not to smother her, but concern was constantly written on their faces, “What about your own classes?”  
“I’m not sure actually. But I’m more worried about sinking the kid’s grades than I am my own. Besides, I’m only taking advanced potions, advanced charms, and a double block of healing. It’s not like my schedule is busy.” Caliban and Alethea shared a worried glance.  
Roger seemed less worried. He just shrugged, “Try not to let the crazy rub off on her.” Viola laughed. The younger kids she had frightened that first day had whispered to near everyone how she was crazy and to stay away from her. Viola laughed harder when she noticed the scandalized looks on Caliban and Alethea’s faces. 

_Friday night found Harry blindly stumbling towards the Common Room. His heart pounded wildly, bile rose up, choking him, making each breath a fight, not that he could breathe through the clenched tightness in his chest. He stopped several times. Forced himself to take a ragged breath. Forced one foot after another. One staircase after another. Stop, breathe, move. Stop, breathe, move. Stop, breathe, move, move, move._

Viola soon discovered that Daphne was a bright girl. After the first week, she could see why Daphne had asked for help so early on. Umbridge had the students reading in class, the silence stifling. Daphne would sit there, staring at the page, her mind wandering as the letters on the page seemed to float and wander away. Half of their time was spent reading through the chapter together and discussing what was going on.  
_‘Dear Ron,_  
I have only just hear (from no less a person than the Minister of Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect.’ Harry and Hermione pressed together, huddled over the letter from Percy. Ron had gotten more angry with each line, but Harry felt a sickening dread. A weight dropped down into the pit of his stomach, ‘I feel bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at Hogwarts much longer and the people who count have a very different - and probably more accurate - view of Potter’s behavior. I shall say no more here, but if you look at the Daily Prophet tomorrow you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing,’  
Harry felt panic try to rise up at the thought of Dumbledore being ousted. The last time Dumbledore had been taken away from Hogwarts, the Chamber of Secrets was open and Ginny had nearly died. He snuck a glance over at her, reassuring himself that she was okay. They were all okay. By some miracle. Nothing was solid yet. No reason to panic. Yet. Turning back to the letter, ‘Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about Harry Potter, and congratulations again on becoming prefect.’  
Harry tried to put on a light hearted smile and crack a joke, but Ron was having none of it. He snatched the letter back and tore it to bits, “He is,” RIP!, “the world’s,” RIP “biggest, “RIP! “Git!” 

Viola was dreaming. She had to be. She felt lighter than she had all summer. Like a weight had been lifted from her. Even though she knew she was dreaming, she didn’t bother trying to wake. If she could live this moment forever, she would. It was Christmas break, two years ago. Cassius and Viola had been together a little over a year at that point, and he had spent the holiday with her family.  
Christmas Eve found them lounging in the living room, buried under children. Her little brothers and sister had been too excited to sleep. So her mother made them all hot cocoa, and Cassius had read the Night Before Christmas. Viola had ended up stretched out on the couch, cradling the twins in her arms. They had nodded off not too long after the cocoa ran out. Even then they held each others hands, as they had done almost every night since the day they were born. Viola stroked Robin’s hair gently, but her eyes were on Cassius. His seat in the overly large armchair was dimly lit by the fire crackling away. Orlando clung to his shirt. The five year old blinked slowly and sleepily, fighting to stay awake and see Santa come down the chimney. Orlando was stubborn, the nervous child who kept his eyes on everything and everyone. She’d been surprised that Cassius had won him over so quickly. Now Viola was lucky if Orlando even acknowledged her when Cass was over.  
It was times like these that Viola would say she knew they weren’t meant for each other. It wasn’t hard for her to imagine them in their own home, Cass cradling their own child, whispering made up adventures to lull them to sleep.  
Viola woke up with a start. Rain was pelting hard against the windows, the wind howling desperately. She wiped the tears away. The dorms had never felt so lonely before. So empty. So dark.

_Harry had tried to go to bed, but Sirius had appeared in the fire. He wanted to be angry at Sirius for putting himself in such danger, but he couldn’t be angry. Sirius was the only one who understood what it was to be so hated for something he was not guilty of._  
“Ah, well, that figured,” said Sirius when they related news of Umbridge’s class, “Our information from inside the Ministry is that Fudge doesn’t want you trained in combat.”  
“Trained in combat?” Harry repeated, “What does he think we’re doing here, forming some sort of wizard army?”  
“That’s exactly what he thinks you’re doing, or rather, that’s exactly what he’s afraid Dumbledore’s doing - forming his own private army.”  
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Ron was still talking, but Harry had tuned out momentarily. Angry was starting to fill him again. He’d have to find Viola for sure. He couldn’t keep going like this. If Fudge thought they were forming an Army, why shouldn’t Harry give him exactly what he was afraid of? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahahahahaha I forgot how much of a dick Sirius is and now I'm rereading it like.... chill my bruh, he's just looking out for you cause he cares.


	5. Chapter Five: If It’s An Army You Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Umbridge is made High Inquisitor, Viola finds out about Sirius Black, students gather at the Hog's Head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm shit at summaries. This chapter is a little longer than my usual. Any time the dialogue seems like it actually has proper grammar and sounds like a British person, it's probably a quote directly from the books. It's just the really important anchoring points that couldn't be swapped about.

** Chapter Five: If It’s An Army You Want **

“She’s been what?”   
Viola could hear Harry from across the room, through the usual breakfast noises.  
“What’s he about now?” She muttered to herself. Apparently Roger heard her. He glanced up from his paper, but he couldn’t pick out Harry from the crowd even if he wanted to.  
“I haven’t the slightest. But get a look at this,” Roger set the Daily Prophet between them. Viola groaned at the ridiculously large photo of Umbridge on the front page.  
“Educational Decree Twenty-two? What are the other twenty-one?”  
“I don’t know, but that explains how we got Umbridge. And it looks like things are about to get worse.” He motioned for her to keep reading.  
“On-the-ground feedback about what’s really happening at Hogwarts? What do they think is happening?”  
“Keep reading.”  
_...the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Twenty-three, which creates the new position of Hogwarts High Inquisitor…_  
Further down.  
_Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post._  
“Parents can’t be enthusiastic if they don’t know about it,” Roger criticized when she read out Lucius Malfoy’s statement. Viola remembered that he was on Harry’s list of Death Eaters. How interesting, “Note also that they listed Professor Lupin as a werewolf.”  
“Well he is.” Caliban inserted himself into the conversation from across the table.   
“He was also one of the best professors we’ve ever had,” Roger bit back.   
“What about Quirrell?”  
“Quirrell was good at theoretics and routine. But Lupin actually got practicallity and experience.” Roger had been planning on becoming an auror when he finished school. And Lupin had been their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor when they had taken their OWLS, when they’d done their career counseling. Viola had to admit it was the most prepared she’d felt for an exam.  
“That doesn’t change that he was a dangerous half breed who tried to eat students.”   
“It was one time, and it’s not like he did it on purpose. Whereas Quirrell let a troll into the dungeons, you know - the place that we live in, tried to steal the philosopher’s stone, and tried to kill students. On purpose. That was the whole plan. AND he was a mediocre teacher at best.”  
Viola tuned them out and went back to the article. She made notes of the Wizengamot elders who resigned, how the author immediately tried to discredit them. Ogden… that name sounded familiar… wasn’t there an Ogden in Hufflepuff?  
They were moving on now, headed to class. Viola kept the paper, with Roger’s approval of course. She didn’t have class until the afternoon’s double charms. Viola knew Harry would be in History of Magic that period - she’d heard a pair of Gryffindor’s planning their nap - making this the best time to talk to Harry. She waited in the halls to empty out. Perched in one of the stone alcoves, she scanned the Daily Prophet for any other interesting news. Once the noise died down and the silence set in, she stood, folded the paper neatly, and walked towards Professor Binns’ classroom.  
Ten minutes in and half the class was already asleep. _‘Good.’_ Viola thought. She didn’t want people seeing them together. It would make things harder for both of them. Harry himself was zoned out, Hermione taking vigorous notes beside him, and Ron practically drooling as he nodded off on her other side. Viola waited until Binns was lost in remembering.  
Getting Harry’s attention took some craft so as not to alert anyone else, and soon he was outside with her.  
“What’s going on?”  
“Just checking in on my favorite crazy person,” Viola laughed when Harry blushed, “Wanted to make sure you saw the Prophet.”  
Harry ran his fingers through his already messy hair, “I did. Hermione gets it. So the Ministry thinks we’re forming an army. Maybe I should.” He laughed awkwardly and Viola smiled.  
“Maybe,” She shrugged, “But for now, keep-”  
“My head down and control my temper?”  
“Yes.”  
“I’ve been trying,” He shifted nervously, “Can we talk?”  
“Isn’t that what we’re doing now?” He groaned at her terrible joke, “Just let me know when.”  
“Tonight? After dinner?”  
Viola nodded, “Sure. Same place? Get back to class, Potter.”

 

Despite his earlier promise to keep his head down, Hary rose up to Umbridge’s bait that very afternoon. Hermione was just trying to discuss a point in the text but Umbridge was ruthless, and then she praised Quirrell and he went off.  
“I think another week’s detention would do you some good Mr. Potter.”  
Harry cursed himself.

Harry raged to Viola after dinner - about Snape, Umbridge, Quidditch, everything.  
“Harry… is there something else?”  
“What?”  
“Well it’s just… you keep mumbling to yourself about someone. Is it Ron? Someone else?”  
Harry stopped. He’d been grumbling about Sirius. He hadn’t even realized. He thought about lying. Playing it off like he was still upset about what Seamus said at the beginning of the year. But Viola had never judged him. She was completely open about her feelings, the dreams she had of Cassius, the pain she was going through. She believed in him, had taken him at her word about Cassius. Harry slumped down into his chair, “You have to swear not to tell anyone. Not a single soul.”   
He poured out every bit - From finding out about Sirius, he he was, to Peter Pettigrew, leaving out important bits like where he had been hiding out, and where he was now. Finally he told her about Sirius popping into the fire the night before.  
“So that’s where you got the idea for an army?”  
Harry laughed sadly, “I don’t think he meant I should start one, just that the Ministry thinks we are. I think I’m just tired of people thinking I’m something else. Part of me thinks, if that’s what they want so bad, why don’t I just give it to them?”  
Viola felt the silence that followed, “I think you were right to discourage him from coming out to visit.”  
“Then why do I feel so bad?”  
“The right thing isn’t always easy. And… he said something very cruel. I doubt he meant it. And if what you’ve told me about him is true, I bet he regrets it and is ashamed. I can see where he’s angry and hurt - being locked up for a crime he didn’t commit. Having to constantly be on the run and in hiding. I’ve never met a Gryffindor that is fine with sitting and waiting. The itch for action is like a disease in you all. No offense.”  
Harry waved it off.  
“Still, he’s being reckless. And bringing your father into it was uncalled for. Especially when you never got to know him yourself.”   
Harry nodded, rising from his seat and preparing to go. At first, Viola had thought she had overstepped, “I have to go before I’m late. I got another week’s detention with Umbridge.”  
Viola just shook her head.

 

After the second detention, Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. Hermione had put together strained and pickled murtlap tentacles to ease his pain.  
“She’s an awful woman,” Hermione said softly while his hand soaked, “We’ve got to do something about her.”  
She and Ron went back and forth for a bit while Harry petted Crookshank. Then Hermione said, “Maybe we should just do it ourselves?”  
“Do what ourselves?” Harry asked.  
“Well - learn Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Harry saw the potential. There was the army Fudge was looking for. Granted, it was just the three of them. Hardly an actual army, not that Fudge would know the difference.  
“We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use the spells and correct us if we’re going wrong.”  
“If you’re talking about Lupin-”  
“No, no, I’m not talking about Lupin,” Hermione said, “He’s too busy anyways.”  
“Who, then?”  
Hermione sighed, “Isn’t it obvious?”  
Harry stared blankly.  
“I’m talking about you, Harry.”  
Hermione and Ron tried to convince him, but he kept shaking his head.  
“It sounds great when you say it like that, but all that stuff was luck - I didn’t know what I was doing half the time, I didn’t plan it, I just did whatever I could think of, and I nearly always had help-” He went on, growing angrier until it bubbled over, “You don’t know what it’s like! You’ve never had to face him, to face Voldemort.  
“It’s not memorizing spells like in class. The whole time you know that the only thing between you and dying is your own guts - or whatever. You can’t think straight when you’re a second away from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friend die-”  
Hot tears flooded down his cheeks, “They didn’t teach us that in class, how to deal with that- and you’re sitting there acting like I’m clever for being alive while Warrington is - like he messed up and you don’t understand that that could have been me - would have been if Voldemort hadn’t- hadn’t needed me.”  
Harry sobbed quietly, sinking back into the couch.  
“That’s why we need you.” Hermione whispered some time later, “We need to know what it’s really like to face… to face V-voldemort.”

 

They talked no more on the subject for two weeks, but Harry had told Viola about it. She seemed to agree, even mentioned that she’d picked up two more fifth years that needed tutoring already. When Hermione brought it up again, Harry was nearly convinced.  
“The first weekend in October is a Hogsmeade weekend. How would it be if we tell anyone who’s interested to meet us in the village and we can talk it over?”  
Harry didn’t hesitate to invite Viola - and whoever she saw fit. He forgot to mention to Hermione that he’d invited the Slytherins. Viola was quite amused at the squeaked out surprise when Viola approached her for the meeting place. 

Inside the Hog’s Head, Harry was surprised at the crowd that filed in. The crowd was lead be Neville, Dean, and Lavender, followed by the Patil twins, Cho (to arry’s surprise and delight, without Cedric) and her usual friends, Luna, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson. Colin and Dennis Creevey filed in next, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, an unknown Hufflepuff, Three Ravenclaw boys; Ginny walked in with a tall Hufflepuff Harry recognized from Quidditch - he instantly disliked him for a reason Harry couldn’t quite put his finger on. Fred and George walked in with Lee Jordan.   
Fred made his way to the counter and ordered a bunch of butterbeers. He gave most of them to George and Lee to hand out. He brought one to Hermione himself, probably on his way to sit down.   
Harry was a little disappointed that Viola hadn’t shown up. He was nervous - he hadn’t realized how many people would show up. He couldn’t help the sinking feeling that they weren’t all there with pure intentions. Everyone started taking seats, looking at Harry expectantly.   
Hermione started, “Well - er - hi… erm… you know why you’re here. Erm… well, Harry here had the idea - I mean, I had the idea - that it might be good if people who really wanted-”  
Hermione hesitate when the Hog’s Head door opened again. Harry rose when he saw Viola walk in. The people gathered looked surprised as he went to greet her and the three Slytherins that walked in behind her. She apologized for being late, and the four of them pulled up chairs. The folks next to to them shifted awkwardly, but the Slytherins sat with the same pride they seemed to always exude.   
Hermione started again, “As I was saying… It might be good if people who really wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts - and I mean, really study it, you know, not that rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us, because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts-”  
“Hear, hear,” said Anthony Goldstein, the Slytherins and a few others nodded along.   
Hermione was strengthened by the support. She glanced sideway at Harry, “And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but real spells-”  
“You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL too though, I bet?” Harry want to punch Michael Corner for being such a git, but instead he made eye contact with Viola and rolled his eyes.  
“Of course I do,” said Hermione cooly, “But I want more than that. I want to be trained in defense because-” she took a deep breath, “Because Voldemort is back.”  
The reaction was the usual one expected every time someone dared to say Voldemort’s name. The Slytherins all flinched and shifted uncomfortably, but they recovered well. Viola placed her hand on the knee of the girl next to her. Harry wondered briefly if she had already talked them through what had happened - after all, he’d never been remotely popular with anyone in that house. Everyone was now staring fixedly at Harry.  
“What’s the proof You-Know-Who’s back?” said the blond Hufflepuff player, rather aggressively.   
“Dumbledore believes it-” Hermione started only to be cut off.  
“You mean, Dumbledore believes him,” the boy nodded at Harry.  
“Who are you?” Ron and Viola asked at the same time.  
“Zacharias Smith,” he said, “And I think we’ve the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who’s back.”  
Viola locked eyes with the boy, sat ramrod straight, and leaned in, “You. Think you have a right? He told you. Dumbledore told you. He believes it because he saw it. You don’t want to know why he believes it. So why don’t you ask what you really want to know? You want to know what happened that night. You want all the gorey details because you,” the venom in her voice when she said you made Zacharias flinch back, “feel entitled to it. You don’t think.” She sighed and sat back with what one could mistake as indifference, though Harry knew it was more exhaustion, “Have you ever seen someone die?”  
“I.. no, I’ve never-”  
“And yet you want to make Harry relive that. You want him to tell you what it’s like to watch someone die, knowing you can do nothing to stop it. In front of all these people. Harry doesn’t owe you that. He doesn’t owe anyone that. Especially. Not. You.”  
Hermione let Viola’s words hang in the air, sinking in to all present. A few people shifted guilty in their seats. Others looked around, daring someone to say anything else. Finally Hermione spoke, “ Wo like I was saying… if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we’re going to do it, how often we’re going to meet, and where we’re going to--”   
“Is it true,” interrupted one girl with a long plait in her dark hair, “that you can produce a Patronus?”  
Everyone perked up at this new piece of information.  
“Yeah,”  
“A corporeal Patronus?”  
Susan Bones laid out everything she’d heard from her aunt about Harry’s Patronus. Then others started to remember fantastic things he’d done. Viola had forgotten half of them - or perhaps brushed them off as rumors that she was too busy to pay attention to.   
“So we’re all agreed to take lessons from Harry?” Hermione asked again. There was a general murmur of agreement, then arguing about Quidditch practices, and meeting places - talk of how the Ministry was afraid of an Army. and then Hermione brought out the paper for everyone to sign. While there was some arguing about that, Viola did not hesitate. Daphne hesitated for only a moment - but then she remembered what Viola had said… that Voldemort had killed Cassius for being an inconvenience, a spare. If a pureblood Slytherin could be cast aside so easily… then perhaps it was best to learn some defenses. She signed without any nudging. The other two seemed to follow the same train of thought. 

As the groups dispersed, Viola looked for Harry. She didn’t want to approach him, since he was still talking through details with the others, but she nodded a goodbye before heading out. As the door shut behind her, she could just hear Ron, “He’s WHAT?”

“She’s going out with- my sister’s going- what d’you mean, Michael Corner?”  
Hermione rolled her eyes, “Well, that’s why he and his friends came, I think - Well, they’re obviously interested in learning defense, but if Ginny hadn’t told Michael what was going on-” Harry felt that odd dislike again. Maybe it was because Ginny was his best friend’s sister and he just felt that normal protectiveness of family? Harry missed whatever Ron and Hermione said next, as he was trying to sort out that unpleasant emotion.  
“Which one was Michael Corner?” Ron demanded.  
“The dark one,” said Hermione.  
“I didn’t like him.” Ron said at once. Hermione rolled her eyes at him and mumbled that it wasn’t surprising, “But wait, I thought Ginny fancied Harry!”   
Harry blushed lighted at that and pretended not to be a part of the conversation. Hermione shook her head, “No, Ginny used to fancy Harry. But she gave up on him months ago. Not that she doesn’t like you, of course, it’s just different now.”  
“Is that why she talks around me now?” he asked, “She never used to talk in front of me.” Harry was glad she’d gotten over that. Ron was his best friend. And he, of course, loved Fred and George. The Weasleys were like the family he’d never had, so it was nice that he and Ginny could be around each other without any awkwardness. And he found he rather liked her sense of humor.   
“Anyways, what about Cho and you?”  
Harry blushed deeply, “What do you mean? She dating Cedric. Isn’t she?” Had he been too obvious? He hoped he hadn’t made her uncomfortable.  
“Not anymore. And well, she couldn’t keep her eyes off you, could she?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk if I say it explicitly, but Viola sort of told her Slytherin kids what happened that night in the cemetery. She didn't go into detail, but told them enough so as to trust Harry.


	6. Jinx, Fire, and the Come and Go Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delores Umbridge pushes through Educational Decree 24 - disbanding all organizations until they get permission from her to re-form. Dobby makes an appearance, revealing the Room of Requirements, and the first meeting takes place.

** Chapter Six: Jinx, Fire, and the Come and Go Room **

The Monday, they all entered their Common Rooms and saw the large signs taking over the Notice Boards. Viola read the notic out loud to gathering Slytherins, putting an end to the clamoring:  
“By order of the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts. All student organizations, societies, teams, groups, and clubs are henceforth disbanded. An organization, society, team, group, or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge.” Viola rolled her eyes and moved away from the decree. She gave Daphne a look that said she would take care of it.  
Over in Hufflepuff there was a general annoyance from the Quidditch team. Ravenclaw tower was a hive of agitation as people figured out who was going to approach Umbridge for which club. In Gryffindor, Ron and Harry were showing the notice to Hermione.  
“Someone must have blabbed to her,” Ron insisted.  
Hermione just shook her head, “They can’t have.”  
“You’re so naive. You think just because you’re all honest and trustworthy-”  
“No, they can’t have done it because I put a jinx on the paper we all signed.”

They spent the morning reassuring everyone that, yes, they were still doing it, no, Umbridge doesn’t know, Yes, I’m sure.  
Harry watched Ginny head towards Ravenclaw to talk to Michael Corner. A few seats down from him was Cho. Harry hoped that this decree wouldn’t scare her off.   
When they were leaving for class, Angelina caught up with them, “We have to go and ask permission to re-form the Gryffindor team.” They hadn’t even thought f Quidditch yet, “So listen, Harry… I’m saying this for the last time… Please, please don’t lose your temper with Umbridge again or she might not let us play anymore!”

Viola made her way straight to Umbridge’s office. She’d already written up a statement for her study group. She figured it would make it easier for them to move around or practice without being questioned if Umbridge gave them the green light.

Harry had just let Hedwig into the History of Magic room, her wing obviously injured. He’d made an excuse to Professor Binns. Carrying Hedwig as carefully as he could, he made his way to the staffroom to find Professor Grubbly-Plank. Once he’d explained himself to McGonagall, who he’d run into first, Grubbly-Plank took Hedwig in.  
He got his letter, and a warning from McGonagall. The note wasn’t signed, but he recognized Sirius’ handwriting, “Today, Same Time, Same Place.”

Viola left Umbridge’s office, the signed permission clutched tightly in her hand. She didn’t know how she’d made it out of there without losing her own temper. Umbridge had given her that sickly sweet smile, set aside the written request, and spent nearly an hour talking about the tragedy of Cassius’ death. Viola wanted to end Umbridge when she started to prob Viola for how Viola felt about Potter and his ‘nasty, attention seeking lies.’

Harry could hear Malfoy before they reached the door of Snape’s classroom. He was going on about how Slytherin’s Quidditch team already had permission to play.  
“It’ll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor will be allowed to keep playing, won’t it?”  
“Don’t rise,” Hermione whispered to Harry, her hand on his shoulder. Harry tried to tune him out but…  
“As for Potter… my father says it’s a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St. Mungo’s… Apparently they’ve a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic…” Draco made a face, mocking them, as Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson cackled. Neville shoved past Harry, launching himself at Malfoy. It took Harry, Ron, and Hermione all their strength to pull Neville back.  
Once that had settled down and Snape allowed them into the classroom, they noticed Umbridge sitting in a corner, clipboard on her knee. Umbridge spent the first half hour writing notes in her corner. While Harry was focused on her, Hermione was watching the three that Viola had brought to the Hog’s Head. She didn’t understand why Harry had trusted Viola so readily. And she really didn’t understand the people Viola had selected.  
Daphne Greengrass was a pureblood who had obviously bought into the idea of blood purity, as was Ophelia Dippet. Even worse, Theodore Nott’s parents were Death Eaters!  
Hermione locked eyes with Daphne. They sized each other up, both questioning. Then Daphne nodded towards Theodore. Hermione looked just in time to see the flick of his wand. Hermione flinched instinctively, but nothing happened. No, not true. She followed the direction of his wand as he flicked it tice more. The heat was subtly cranking up under Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle’s cauldrons. And di Ophelia just slip something into Pansy Parkinson’s Cauldron? It all happened so quickly, if Hermione hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed it.   
Umbridge had finished questioning Snape, apparently leaving him in quite the mood, “No marks again, then, Potter.” Snape vanished Harry’s work once again, assigning him even more work. Snape said nothing of the Slytherin cauldrons that were now several shades off and smelled of rotting wood, or Pansy Parkinson’s that was sparking dangerously.  
At the end of class, Daphne packed up quickly and was out the door with the other two. Come to think of it, those three were together near as much as Harry, Ron, and Hermione were. Hermione tried to catch up to them, but they’d disappeared so fast. Maybe she would never get an explanation for why they’d done it. Surely not to stick up for Harry. Maybe it had something to do with why Neville was so enraged? Hermione didn’t know.   
Neville knew though. He had watched Theodore from the moment they entered the classroom. Wondering how it was possible for him to keep such steel control over himself. Until he had seen Theodore sabotage the cauldrons, he had thought that Theodore just didn’t care. See, the two had met some time before they came to Hogwarts. Theodore’s grandmother, a formidable witch, had been on the same ward as Neville’s parents, two beds down. The two had spent a bit of time together, when Theodore would come to visit with his mother, reading the Tales of Beedle the Bard and other short works. They had never talked much, but they’d come to a sort of understanding. Which is probably why Neville found a note tucked in with his things, reading: We take care of our own.

“How are things?” Sirius asked, appearing in the fireplace.  
“Not that good. Ministry forced through another decree, meaning we’re not allowed to have Quidditch teams-” Harry started to say.  
“Or secret Defense Against the Dark Arts groups?” Sirius teased.  
There was a pause, “How did you know about that?”  
“You should choose your meeting places more carefully,” Sirius was smiling despite the gentle chastising, “The Hog’s Head, really?”  
“Better than the Three Broomsticks!” Hermione said defensively, “It’s always packed with people.”  
“And loud. So you would have been harder to overhear. You’re smart, it was a logical choice. But you still have a lot to learn.”  
Harry didn’t care about that, “Who overheard us?”  
“Mundungus,” Sirius laughed, “He was the witch under the veil.”  
“Why was he at the Hog’s Head?”  
“Keeping an eye on you, of course.”  
Harry was starting to get angry again, “I’m still being followed?”  
“Yes. And just as well when the first thing you do with a free weekend is start an illegal defense group.” Contrary to his words, Sirius didn’t look the least bit upset. Instead, he looked rather proud, and maybe just a bit jealous. He also made sure to convey a message from Molly Weasley - banning Ron from his illegal activities and ‘gently’ suggesting that Harry and Hermione not take part either.   
“I think it is better to be expelled and able to defend yourselves than to sit safely in school and know nothing.” Sirius finally said after some prompting from Hermione. He went on to ask them about their logistics: When, where, how. But just as they were getting into where they could possibly practice, Sirius tensed up and left in a hurry. A minute later HErmione gave a horrified gasp and leapt to her feet. The three of them ran for their dorms - a stubby, short-fingered hand grasping through the fire after them.

“Whozair?” Harry slurred, sitting upright. He had fallen asleep in the Common Room while doing his extra homework. The candles had all gone out, but Harry could just see something moving in the darkness.  
Then a small voice squeaked, “Dobby has your owl, sir!”  
“Dobby?” Harry blinked, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. Dobby was standing beside the table that Hermione had piled high with knitted hats. His ears poked out from an already enormous tower of knit hats - possibly every hat that Hermione had left out. Attop the three foot tower of hats was Hedwig, hooting contentedly, obviously feeling quite a bit better.  
“Dobby volunteered to return Harry Potter’s owl, now that Professor Grubbly-Plank says she is all well, sir.” Hedwig gave an indignant hoot and flew her perch when Dobby made to bow. She landed next to Harry, who began stroking her feathers absentmindedly.   
Taking a good look at Dobby, Harry could also see he was wrapped in several scarves and innumerable socks - making himself look like a too small child bundled tightly by over worried mothers in the winter, “Thanks, Dobby! Have um… have you been taking all the clothes Hermione’s been leaving out?” That would explain quite a bit.  
“Oh no, sir,” Dobby glowed at the mention of clothes, his fingers happily adjusting and re-adjusting the scarves, “Dobby has been taking some for Winky too, sir.”  
“How is Winky?” The droop in Dobby’s ears said everything Harry needed to know.  
“Winky is drinking a lots, sir. She does not care for the clothes, sir. Nor the other house-elves. None of them will clean Gryffindor Tower anymore. They think it is insulting, sir. So Dobby does it all, not that I mind, sir, because then Dobby can meet Harry Potter like he has tonight,” Dobby made to bow again, “Though Harry Potter does not seem happy. Was Harry Potter having bad dreams, sir?”  
“I’ve had worse,” Harry yawned, rubbing his eyes sleepily.  
“Dobby wishes to help Harry Potter, for Harry Potter set Dobby free…”  
Harry smiled, “I wish you could Dobby. But thank you for the offer.” He bent down to pick up his dropped Potions book. He still had an essay to finish after all. And then it hit him, “Dobby… maybe there is something…”  
Dobby lit up, “Name it”  
“I need to find a place where thirty-two people can practice Defense Against the Dark Arts without being discovered by the teachers, especially Professor Umbridge.”  
Dobby practically leapt for joy, happily clapping his hands together, “Dobby knows the perfect place, sir! Dobby heard from the other house-elves when he came to Hogwarts! It is the Come and Go Room, the Room of Requirement!”  
“The what?”  
“The Room of Requirements! Because a person can only enter it when they have a real need of it. Sometimes it is there, and sometimes it is not, but when it appears, it is always equipped for the seeker’s needs! Dobby has used it, sir!” Dobby dropped his voice and leaned in, as though sharing a secret, “When Winky has been very drunk. He has hidden her there and found antidotes and a bed for her to sleeps it off, sir. And Dobby knows Filch has found extra cleaning materials there when he has run short, sir, and-”  
“And if you really need a bathroom,” Harry laughed, remembering something Dumbledore had said at the Yule ball.  
“It is a most amazing room, sir.”  
“How many people know about it?”  
“Not many, sir,” Dobby said, shaking his head. The hats wobbled precariously, “Most stumbles across it when they needs it, but never finds it again, sir.”  
“It sounds perfect. This is really important… I don’t want to blow it, so it;ll need proper planning… listen, Dobby, can you tell me exactly where the Room of Requirements is and how to get in there?”

Viola tore at the piece of bread in her hands, her plate already lettered with crumbs. Her conversation with Umbridge had sat in her mind like a thick fog - dampening everything into a wet numbness. Caliban and Alethea were chattering annoyingly at her, but even that was like a bizz in her ears. Every now and then they would turn on Roger, urging him to talk some sense into her. Instead, Roger just slipped another piece of bread onto her plate, this time with a bit of stew piled atop it. He smiled slightly when she actually took a bite of that. He gently squeezed her knee. Out of everyone, Viola think she appreciated Roger the most. He never pressured her into moving on, or acting like everything was fine. From day to day he just sort of… rolled with her moods. Besides his little nudges, she had mostly blocked out the world. Until a throat cleared next to her. Daphne was standing there a little awkwardly.  
“Um… Viola, I was wondering if you could check this over for me?I know it’s really short notice.” Daphne shifted slightly as Viola took the parchment from her. Daphne tried her best to avoid Caliban and Alethea’s glares. They had made it quite apparent that they didn’t approved of the ‘added stress’ that tutoring put on Viola. Viola started to read over the essay, but then realized part of it was in Theodore’s much neater writing, “Potter found a place to meet. They said tonight, eight o’clock, seventh flour - across from Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls.” She noticed Roger trying to glance at the writing. She didn’t know if he had seen it, but she passed the page back quickly.  
“It looks good. We’ll talk about it more tonight.” Daphne smiled and nodded, the message getting through.

 

They slipped out of the Slytherin Common Room, Viola making sure they wouldn’t be followed, “Well obviously we can’t study here. You’ve been perfectly clear that you don’t mind interrupting their studies because you think you know what’s best for me.”   
She also kept the permission slip from Umbridge tucked in her pocket as they made their way up to the seventh floor. They had gone from being the last people there to the first people. Hermione had just slunk into a book when they arrived. Harry and Viola began talking animatedly in one corner - Harry catching her up on the latest happenings, particularly what Sirius had said. Theodore, Daphne, and Ophelia sort of wandered around, inspecting the books and equipment scattered about. Daphne made an awkward attempt to talk to Ron, who stiffened and seemed just as uncomfortable as she was, though Viola suspected for an entirely different reason. He was all too happy to escape when another gentle knock came at the door.   
“We’ll have to work on that.” Viola muttered to Harry.   
Ron let in Ginny, Neville, Lavender, Pavarti, and Dean. Ron fell into conversation with Dean, Pavarti, and Lavender. Theodore had managed to pull Neville away, to apologize for Draco’s nonsense. Ginny had followed, probably to protect Neville. The protection wasn’t needed. Viola hoped that they would be able to see Theodore past his father’s reputation. She hadn’t been reckless with her selection. Theodore had a lot of problems, like any pureblood, but he was the kind of kid who cried over spilled milk. He’d be easy to turn about if people would simply talk to him.   
At eight o’clock, everyone had arrived. Harry left his spot with Viola, where Ginny, Dean, and Michael Corner had joined them, and locked the door with a loud and satisfying click. Viola spotted Theodore, still with Neville, but now also with Fred, George, and Lee Jordan. It looked like Angelina had just been headed over to them. Daphne was seated next to Ophelia, Daphne’s head rested on Ophelia’s shoulder as she talked to Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones. Hermione marked the page in her book and set it aside.  
Harry stumbled his way through and introduction. Daphne covered up a quiet laugh. She found Harry’s awkwardness endearing. Especially since she herself constantly fumbled through any attempt to be social.  
Finally Hermione said, “I think we ought to elect a leader.”  
“Harry’s leader,” Cho Chang said, looking at Hermione like she was stupid.  
“Yes, but I just thought we should vote on it properly. So all in favor.” Everyone raised their hands, some more reluctantly than others, “I also think we ought to have a name. To promote a feeling of team spirit and unity. Don’t you think?”  
“Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?” said Angelina, drawing laughter.  
“Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?” Fred suggested.  
“I was thinking more of a name that didn’t tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside of meetings.” said Hermione.  
“What about Cassius’ Calvary?” Ophelia threw in. The group became more serious at that. Some people muttered about it being a good idea, but it would be a little difficult to cover up outside.  
A moment later, “The Defense Association? D.A. for short, so no one knows what we’re talking about?” Cho suggested.  
“The D.A.s good,” said Ginny, “Only let’s make it stand for Dumbledore’s Army, because that’s what the Ministry fears, isn’t it?” There was a good deal of murmuring and laughter at that.  
“I like it,” Viola said.  
“All in favor of the D.A.?” Hermione said, counting out votes, “That’s a majority - motion passed!” She pinned the piece of paper they had all signed to the wall and wrote DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY across the top.  
“Right,” Harry said, “Shall we get practicing then?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol I'm updating uncharacteristically fast right now. I don't know how long this will continue. I'm kind of motivated because I told myself I can't start my new project until this one is finished. My new project is another Harry Potter fanfic, a long form like this one, only it will cover all seven books. I'll more than likely go back and forth between that fic and this one, book by book. 
> 
> We're a little over half way through now. The chapters should start getting longer now that there's less exposition to get through.


	7. Lifetime Bans and Giant Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finishes up the first meeting of Dumbledore's Army, rounds through the first Quidditch match, and Hagrid returns this chapter! 
> 
> Notes: There is a sensory overload anxiety attack described in this chapter. I tried to convey the panic without going into too much detail, but just be warned. 
> 
> Also, did you know how to tell the twins apart? Because I did not. and I did a couple days of studying to find out. I'm gonna keep on studying until I can tell them apart every time, especially since it's becoming somewhat important to the story.

** Chapter Seven: Lifetime Bans and Giant Friends **

Zacharias Smith rolled his eyes, “I don’t exactly think _Expelliarmus_ is going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?” Viola was already annoyed with this kid. Who invited him anyways?  
“I’ve used it against him. Saved my life last June,” Harry said quietly, but you could hear a pin drop in that room, everyone waiting to hear him, “But if you think it’s beneath you, you can leave.” No one made any efforts to leave, though Viola had hoped Zacharias would. “  
“Well then, I reckon we should divide into pairs and practice.” Everyone moved at his direction. Viola smiled at the confused look on Harry’s face, clearly unused to being listened to. Theodore had excused himself from the group he was with and sought out Viola as a partner. She reminded him that it was just this once, she wanted them to get to know everyone else in order to get more comfortable here.  
Viola watched Theodore closely. She wasn’t too surprised by the way he moved. Most of the kids she knew that were raised in magic families held their wands like they were born to it, like an extension of themselves. Each movement fluid, any awkwardness hard to spot. But the spell was generally new for Theodore, he - like Viola - had brushed it off after learning it second year. They both fumbled here and again, laughing it off.

Harry had left Neville with Ron and Hermione, now moving through the groups to observe. There was so much spotty wand work. He had saved Cho for last. He knew she could do it, he’d seen her from across the room, but when he neared, she seemed to have forgotten what she was supposed to be doing. Marietta looked at Harry like a bug drawing too close and in need of squashing.   
“Don’t mind her,” Cho commented, “I made her come with me. Her parents forbid her from doing anything to upset Umbridge, since they work at the Ministry and all.”  
“What about your parents?”  
“They’ve forbidden me, too. But-” She blushed and looked away, “But er- I thought I should… well with what happened and-” There was an awkward silence interrupted by Terry Boot’s wand whizzing by, just grazing Harry’s ear before THWAPping Alicia Spinnet in the nose. Before Harry knew it, it was time to dismiss. He spent the night thinking of Cho Chang - and how she said he made her nervous.

Harry felt like he was floating. The DA and their resistance had filed him with a new life. Everytime he wanted to lose his temper with Umbridge, he just remembered the lessons. Everytime he had to read that stupid Slinkhard book, he thought back to the last meeting. He and Viola still met every week, around his Quidditch practices, but now they spent more time laughing and planning out new lessons.  
So far they’d mastered disarming, the Impediment Jinx - after three long hard meetings, and the Reductor Curse. Despite all that, they still couldn’t find a regular night - since they had to accommodate three separate Quidditch teams’ practices. Harry wa just grateful it wasn’t four Quidditch teams. At one meeting, Hermione had shown up with a small basket of Galleons - which she explained she had charmed to change with Harry’s coin to display the date of the next meeting. It was rather brilliant.   
It was hard for Harry when they inevitably had to put the meetings on hold. The first game between Slytherin and Gryffindor was fast approaching and Angelina insisted on daily practices. Harry wasn’t all that concerned, they’d never lost to Slytherin yet. But Ron… Ron was a nervous wreck. Even the professors began to show their bias - McGonagall leaving off homework for the week before, Snape booking the Quidditch pitch for every day, making it near impossible for Gryffindor to practice. Snape took it a step further, ignoring all complaints of Slytherin’s hexing the Gryffindor team, even when there were several witness, like when the Slytherin Seeker hexed Alicia Spinnet so that her eyebrows grew thick and impossible to see under.   
The morning of the match, Harry found himself forcing breakfast into Ron, assuring him that everything would be fine. Viola had already warned him that she wouldn’t be watching the match. Too painful, with it being the first match that Cassius wouldn’t be playing. Hermione came over to wish them luck.   
She whispered to Harry, “Don’t let Ron see the Slytherin’s badges,” Then went over to Ron, “Good luck, Ron.” Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. She turned and walked away, leaving Ron stunned, looking lost and confused. Harry ushered the dazed Ron out of the Great Hall, glancing over at the Slytherin’s and the golden crowns pinned to their robes.  
He made eye contact with Theodore, or shot him a guilty look and mouthed an apology when he thought no one was looking. Despite the discomfort on their faces, both Daphne and Ophelia were also wearing the little gold crowns. Down with the team, Angelina told them who was replacing Derrick and Bole - Crabbe and Goyle, and who was replacing Cassius - some sixth year whose name Harry missed trying to comfort Ron.  
“It’s time. C’mon everyone… good luck.” The team rose and marched out of the changing room to a dazzling light and roaring crowd. Harry could hear singing, but he didn’t know what they were saying. All of the Slytherin team wore the crown badges. Then Madam Hooch blew the whistle and they were off.   
Lee Jordan’s voice boomed over the pitch, “Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I’ve been saying it for years but she still won’t go out with -”  
“Jordan!” Harry could hear McGonagall chastise.  
“Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest-” Harry tried to listen when he could, all the while scanning for the snitch, “And the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what’s that they’re singing?”   
From the Slytherin stands rose the song, loud and clear:  
 _Weasley cannot save a thing,  
He cannot block a single ring,  
That’s why Slytherins all sing:  
Weasley is our King _  
Every time the Slytherins near the rings, the song sprang louder from the crowd, Jordan fighting to be heard. Harry boiled with anger. While he circled the pitch, he could see Pansy Parkinson’s pug face conducting the chorus. Every now and then her scarf and hair sprung up into her face, momentarily knocking her face aside and distracting her. Harry couldn’t tell if he imagined the wand flicks from the familiar looking trio in the stands. Finally he saw the snitch and dove after it, Malfoy hot on his heels. But Malfoy was no match, and Harry soon grasped the struggling ball, even as a bludger whacked him off his broom.   
Down on the ground he faced Malfoy, who, as it turned out, had written the enraging song floating up out of the stands. He tried to ignore Draco, focusing instead on his team. Angelina even managed to hold back Fred and George as they realized Malfoy was insulting their family still. But then Malfoy crossed a line, a line he was well aware of. He insulted Harry’s mother. Next thing he knew, he and George were both barreling towards Malfoy. There was screaming, and Malfoy yelling as he realized he’d messed up. The only thing that stopped Malfoy from getting his ass handed to him was Madam Hooch hitting them with an Impedimenta Jinx. She sent them marching straight for McGonagall’s office, neither saying a word.   
McGonagall had just started to really tear into them when Harry’s stomach dropped out with dread. There was Umbridge’s disgusting hem, hem.   
“May I help, Professor McGonagall?”  
“Help?” McGonagall’s voice was tight with rage, “What do you mean, ‘help?’”  
“Why, I thought you might be grateful for a little extra authority.”  
“You thought wrong,” McGonagall turned back to the boys, “Now, you two had better listen closely. I do not care WHAT provocation Malfoy offered you, I Do Not Care if he insulted EVERY family member you possess, your behavior was Disgusting and I am giving each of you a week’s worth of detention! Do not look at me like that, Potter! And if you ever-”  
“Hem, hem.” George looked like he wanted to punch Umbridge himself this time.  
McGonagall closed her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose, “Yes?”  
“I think they deserve more than detentions.” Their eyes went wide, shooting back and forth between McGonagall and Umbridge. She couldn’t do that! Could she?”  
“But unfortunately, it is what I think that counts, as they are in my House, Dolores.”  
“Well, actually, Minerva, I think you’ll find what I think does count. Now where is it? Cornelius just sent it,” She rummaged about in her handbag until she found what she was looking for. Once she found it, she unfurled it and cleared her throat, “Educational Decree Number Twenty-five-”  
Harry knew it was over then. He rested a hand on George's elbow, fixing his gaze resolutely on McGonagall’s face. By the time Umbridge hd finished, every person in that room looked ready to throttle her and pretend she had simply disappeared into the night. Especially when she said, “I think a lifelong ban ought to do the trick. Both Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. And his twin as well, seeing as how he would have attacked Mr. Malfoy as well had his teammates not restrained him.” With that, she took their brooms and left. McGonagall dismissed them without another word, too furious to even see them at that moment.   
On the way back, they were stopped by Daphne. Harry was used to seeing her be hesitant, cold and standoffish. But she was pure rage. It was the sort of cold rage hidden underneath, unseen.   
George was still ready to fight, “What, Malfoy didn’t get enough in early, you had to come back to drive it home?”  
“I heard what happened,” She said to Harry. Daphne had paired with Fred now and again in the lessons, but had yet to pair with George. Harry didn’t think he’s ever seen the George paired with one of the Slytherins, “Malfoy is a foul little git. The song was… It was just supposed to be a bit of fun, for the rivalry. But Harry… insulting your parents… Malfoy writes his parents every day, so it’s not like he doesn’t know it’s a fucked thing to…” She mumbled something about Malfoy crying himself to sleep first year, scared of being away from his parents. She realized she was rambling, took a deep breath, “And then you two get banned. And Fred. Well… We wanted you to know that… the others and I won’t let this slide. Malfoy has always been an obnoxious snot and now he’s going to find out just how many of us can’t stand him.”   
She spun and walked off, leaving Harry and George in a sort of stunned silence.  
“I think I’m in love.” George muttered half jokingly, “Terrified, too.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Back in the Common Room, they shared all the news. Harry was miserable. Ron returned much later, frozen and miserable. And then Hermione looked out the window, a smiling overtaking her face, “Hagrid’s Back.”  
Hagrid wasn’t all too surprised to see them, or rather, not see them as they had snuck down under the invisibility cloak. He ushered them in, urging Hermione to be quiet. She had been quite upset by the state of Hagrid’s bruised and swollen face. The three of them tried to get his story out, all while Fang bustled around them in an attempt to lick every inch of their faces, and Hagrid kept denying anything had happened at all.  
“Had good summers, did yeh?” He deflected again.  
“Hagrid, you’ve been attacked!” Ron groaned in exasperation, “Would you accept it was nothing if one of us showed up in that state?”  
Hagrid waved them off, retrieving a sickly looking steak, dragon meat he said, and plopped it over the worst half of his face. Harry tried not to gag at the sticky green blood oozing down into Hagrid’s beard, “Helps with the stingin’, yeh know.”  
“So are you going to tell us what happened?” Harry pressured.   
“Can’,” He insisted, “Top Secret. Worth More’n me job’s worth ter tell yeh that.”  
“Did the giants beat you up, Hagrid?” Hermione asked quietly  
“Giants? Who said anythin’ about giants? Who yeh bin talkin to? Who’s told yeh what I’ve - who’s said I’ve bin-”  
“We guessed,” Hermione said quickly.  
“Oh,” Hagrid deflated a bit, “Yeh did?”  
“It was kind of obvious, really.” said Ron, and Harry agreed.   
Hagrid laughed, “You three knowin more’n yeh oughta. An’ I’m not complimentin’ yeh, neither. Nosy. Interferin’.”  
“So… you have been to look for giants?” Harry prodded.  
“I have.”  
“And you found them?” Hermione asked.  
“Well, they’re not that difficult to find, ter be honest. Pretty big.”  
“So where are they?” Ron asked excitedly.  
“Mountains.”  
“Then why don’t muggles-”  
“Oh they do. On’y their deaths always come up as mountaineerin’ accidents.” Hagrid shifts, sliding the still oozing meat about his face. There was a brief silence before Ron spoke up again.  
“Come on, Hagrid, tell us what you’ve been up to! Tell us about being attacked by giants,” he gestured first to Hagrid and then to Harry, “and Harry can tell you about being attacked by dementors.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

While the Gryffindor trio was down in Hagrids getting the news, the Slytherin trio sat off in a remote corner of the Common Room. The excitement and celebration of Slytherin winning the first Quidditch match of the year was severely dampened by Daphne’s sheer rage. Theodore noted that they had to play it cool. Just last year, they would have laughed at it the song, singing at the top of their lungs. It was only now that they were starting to be friends with the Weasleys that it was so offensive to them. Especially knowing that Ron was already so uncertain - Ophelia had spotted him practicing often when she and Daphne studied by the lake.   
“I know, I know. But it’s still-so-aggravating” She said, fluffing the throw pillow aggressively, “Besides, you know you would’ve punch Malfoy’s stupid face in if he said that about your parents.”  
“No. I would hex his stupid face into oblivion.” Theodore corrected, turning the page in his book. Not for the first time, Theodore wished they had gone to his dorm for some quiet. But that would have been too noticeable.   
Daphne ignored Theodore’s comment, “And then to only ban the Gryffindors - don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t want half of our team to get banned - but it’s just so stupid! Its all because That Woman hates,” She dropped her voice a moment, “Well, you know. And then to ban George, too? For what?”  
“For attacking Malfoy? No debate, he did try to smash Malfoy’s face in.”  
“Malfoy only got off because he was too much of a git to fight back. And Fred didn’t do anything at all. He was banned just for looking like Fred. Probably because that foul woman can’t tell them apart.”   
“And you can?” Theodore looked up from his book, smirking at Daphne knowingly.  
She actually heard him this time, blushing prettily, “What, like it’s hard?”  
“Yes.” Ophelia piped in, taking a break from eavesdropping on the other conversations going on around the room.  
“But… George is taller? Not a lot, but still. And his nose has a little curve to it. And his hair swishes forward. And his face is less round- What?” Ophelia and Theodore had both dissolved into laughter.  
“Oh man,” Ophelia said between bouts of giggles, at the same time Theodore said, “She’s got it bad.”  
“Got what?”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Viola tried all she could to stop the noise coming from the Common Room. She’d put out the lights earlier, trying to be asleep before the match. She felt guilty, wishing that they lost. If they lost, everyone would be in bed by now. Instead the noise was unbearable. Viola was on the verge of tears. She just wanted to sleep. Forcing herself out of the bed, she shoved one of the spare blankets under the door to try muffling the noise. She sunk down against the wood of the door, reminding herself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. In. Someone downstairs must have said something witty, because the noise roared up into a deafening wave. Suddenly the room was spinning, the walls closing in. Viola pushed away from the door and stumbled towards across the room. Her hand his the cool glass of the window. That little touch was like a center mark. The nice thing about the Slytherin dorms was how they went up. The first year dorms were completely submerged beneath the lake, the fourth year dorms had water lapping at the windowsill, the seventh year dorms - Viola flung the window open, letting the cool air rush in. She forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply, fighting the urge to gulp the cool air down. That alone took all her willpower, leaving her nothing left to stop the tears streaming down her face.   
She knew that it would be hard without Cassius. But nothing prepared her for the onslaught of feelings - not just sadness but rage, and emptiness, irritability, from not sleeping to always sleeping. It was exhausting. And worse, going through it alone. Viola had worked so hard to block out the noise from below, she didn’t hear the door pushing open against the bundled up blanket. The door clicked closed quietly. She didn’t hear the voice whispering her name. She was startled when a hand landed softly on her shoulder. When she flinched, the hand immediately moved away. She looked over to see Roger lean against the wall next to the window. No. She wasn’t in it alone. Roger was somehow always there.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

“It’s her.” Ron said urgently, dropping his voice so not to be heard.   
Harry grabbed the cloak and flung it over them, huddling together in a far off corner. Hagrid hurried to hide the mugs they had been drinking. That done, he nudged Fang out of the way and opened the door. Professor Umbridge was wearing her green tweed cloak with a hat that had matching ear flaps. The size difference would have been laughable in another situation. The top of Umbridge’s head barely reached Hagrid’s navel.   
“So, you’re Hagrid, are you?” She said, strolling into the room. She looked all about, her eyes narrowed with disdain as she shooed away Fang’s attempts to be friendly.  
“Er- I don’t mean ter be rude… but who the ruddy hell are you?”  
Harry felt like he was on high alert as he watched Umbridge and Hagrid interact. Something about the way Umbridge examined Hagrid like a bug under a microscope was ircking Harry’s last nerve.  
“Term started more than two months ago. Another teacher had to cover your classes. None of your colleagues have been able to give me any information as to your whereabouts. You left no address. Where have you been?”  
“I’ve been away,” Hagrid said simply, “For my health.”  
“For your health?”  
“Yes, bit o’ fresh air. Change o’ scenery, yeh know.”  
“Mountain scenery?”  
Harry felt Hermine grip the back of his shirt. They all tensed. She knows. She knows something. She knows too much.  
“Mountains?” Hagrid looked confused, “Nope. South o’ France fer me. Bit o’ sun an’ sea.”  
“You don’t have a tan.”  
“Sensitive skin.” It went on like that for a bit. Finally, when Umbridge had exhausted her questions, she decided to inform him that, as High Inquisitor, she would be inspecting his lessons so as to weed out the unsatisfactory teachers. After what seemed longer than it was, Umbridge was headed back up to the castle.  
“Blimey, inspectin’ people is she?” Hagrid said in a low voice.  
“Trelawney’s on probation already.” Harry said as he whipped the cloak off.  
Hermione tried to stay casual, “So um… what sort of thing are you planning to do with us in class, Hagrid?” She did not succeed.  
“Don’ you worry abou’ that, I’ve got a great load o’ lessons planned,” Hagrid said with barely contained excitement, “Bin savin’ some o’ these creatures fer yer O.W.L. year, they’re somethin’ really special.”  
“Look, Hagrid. Umbridge won’t be at all happy if you bring anything to class that’s too dangerous.” Or dangerous at all. Or perceived as dangerous. But Hermione didn’t say that.  
“Don’ be silly, I wouldn’ give yeh anythin’ dangerous! Sure they can look after themselves-”  
“Hagrid, you’ve got to pass Umbridge’s inspection! And it would be easiest to do that if she saw you teaching us how to look after porlocks, or how to tell the difference between knarls and hedgehogs.”  
“But tha’s not very interestin’, Hermione. The stuff I’ve got’s much more impressive, I’ve been bringin’ ‘em on fer years. I reckon I’ve got the on’y domestic herd in Britain-”  
“Hagrid, please!” Hermione pleaded desperately, “Umbridge is looking for ANY excuse to get rid of teachers she thinks are too close to Dumbledore. Please Hagrid, teach us something dull that’s bound to come up on our O.W.L.s-” Hermione didn’t get the just-this-once out of her mouth before Hagrid was ushering them out the door.  
“An’ don’ forget ter wipe yer footprints out behind yeh!” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for the support you've given me, and continue to give. 
> 
> Thank you for each and every kudos and every single comment. They really are what inspires me to continue writing. If you have any ideas of suggestions, or saw any images that you think kind of relate to this, please feel free to share them! If I end up using them in the fic, I'll make sure to credit you in the before chapter notes. 
> 
> Thanks again! You all are the best!


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